


Conversion of the Sinner

by trollmela



Series: Conversion [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith waits tables in a bar. Nick decides to just walk in one day. That, of course, is a lie. (5x03 Free to Be You And Me)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversion of the Sinner

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [罪者的转变/Conversion of the Sinner](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263272) by [lengyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lengyu/pseuds/lengyu)



> First story in the Conversion verse. If you recognize a line, it's from the episode 5x03 Free to Be You And Me.

When the man entered, Sam’s eyes were immediately drawn to him. Perhaps it was the fact that he could practically feel the man looking at him; although, ‘looking’ was not quite the right term – he was completely focused on Sam. Or perhaps it was his hunter’s instinct which told him that this man was different.

He was older than Sam and wore jeans, an olive t-shirt and an open button-down shirt. He looked confident though it was obvious from the way he looked at his surroundings that he had never been here before. He had dirty blonde hair and stubble covered his chin and cheeks.

It was too early for the evening and after-work crowd so he was the only other customer; the first had been Billy Powel, who came in every day and spent his time drinking. They had to call his mum every now and then to get him home.

Sam tried to remember whether he had seen the new guy anywhere before but came up blank. He didn’t let his uncertainty show as he asked:

“What can I get you?”

The man’s face was blank for a while, which reminded Sam eerily of Castiel. The former hunter fumbled, wondering whether this was perhaps an angel and, if he was, whether there was any point in running. But before he could contemplate the thought any longer, Lindsay was there and said:

“Our draft beer is good.”

Sam had completely forgotten about her and mentally he chastised himself for not noting her approach. The man glanced at her.

“I’d like one, then.”

He spoke the words as if it was the first time he said them. Sam quickly turned away to get a glass. Jeff, their bartender, only worked during the busy evening hours so he and Lindsey made the drinks themselves. When Sam set the beer down, the man was still staring at him. Lindsay had gone to see that Billy was okay, and it looked as if she was about to sit down at his table and listen to jumbled memories of the war.

The newcomer didn’t seem inclined to drink the beer. Sam frowned.

“Do we know each other?” He asked.

The man shook his head.

“We’ve never met. But I know you, Sam.”

The Winchester froze. “My name is not Sam,” he denied, though he had a feeling that it was fruitless. The man wore a look of genuine confusion.

“My name is Keith,” Sam claimed.

“Ah,” the man said. “I see. I too have many names. You can call me…” He seemed to be searching. Finally he settled on “Nick.”

 

Half an hour later, Nick had taken about two sips of his beer and was still mostly observing Sam. Sometimes he got distracted and he’d watch in utter fascination as Lindsay answered her cell phone or Billy put Dire Straits on the jukebox. Finally, Sam couldn’t deal with it any longer and when Lindsay next disappeared into the kitchen he demanded:

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Because you are fascinating.”

The bluntness threw the Winchester off even though he’d half anticipated it.

“What’s so fascinating about me?”

“All of you.”

At that moment Lindsay returned.

“How’s the beer?” She asked Nick.

“It’s good,” he replied, without the hesitation Sam had expected. As if to prove this, Nick took another sip. Then a group of customers entered and Sam and Lindsay were busy filling orders.

“That guy at the bar… do you know him?” Lindsay asked him once in passing.

“Never met him before tonight.”

“He seems smitten with you. Almost freaky.”

Sam shrugged.

“Do you… do you like him?” She asked hesitantly. “I had no idea you were… You know.” Her eyes flitted from Sam to Nick.

“Oh! No, no, really we just met!” Sam protested, misunderstanding her.

“But you are…”

Sam sighed. He gave her a look which plainly conveyed his irritation.

“Gay,” she sputtered out.

The Winchester sighed again. “Occasionally.” Which was a stupid way to say that you were bisexual.

Lindsay had been asking too many questions lately, and he was not in the mood anymore to spare her the rejection. She was a nice enough girl, but nice girls tended to have bad endings around him. He passed Nick on his way to the kitchen.

“I get off at two,” he said to him.

Sam hadn’t thought Nick’s eyes could get any more intense.

“I’ll wait for you then.”

Sam was a bit taken aback that the other man was willing to meet him so late at night. He gave Nick the name of his motel but kept the room number to himself for now. The older man nodded and emptied his beer. Sam leaned in as he took the glass away. Nick smelled like forest air and that was fine; as long as it was not sulfur.

It was a slow night and the former hunter had about a dozen opportunities to regret inviting the man to meet him. When he finally returned to the motel he didn’t see Nick right away. The moon was hidden by dark clouds and a streetlight was broken which Sam could swear had worked the night before. But when Sam was almost at the door he realized that Nick had in fact come. He was leaning against the wall in the shadow of a vending machine next to the door to Sam’s room.

“Do you regret asking me to come here?” Nick asked.

Sam hesitated. Finally he said: “I probably shouldn’t have done it. It’s not safe. I don’t know you.”

The older man approached. “I won’t hurt you. We can … experiment.” Nick drew the word out. Then he smiled a bit, the corners of his lips turning up briefly. “I’ve never done this before either.”

The Winchester nodded, feeling relieved for some reason.

Inside, Sam took off his shoes and put down his keys. Nick watched as always and, because the former hunter didn’t want this to become awkward for both of them, he opened the buttons of his shirt.

Nick still didn’t move so the younger man made him come closer and put his hands on Nick’s shoulders. They were solid, not too muscular, not too boney. Ordinary.

Now the other man followed suit and lifted his hands to the taller hunter’s shoulders. As he did so, Sam caught a glimpse of a gold band on the man’s left hand.

“Who’s the ring for?” Sam pointed to the wedding ring.

Nick looked at it as if it was the first time he saw it.

“She died,” he finally said. Sam felt like an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.

‘Experimenting’ that night turned out to be some heavy petting and a hand-job. Sam’s hands were only a step away from grasping too tightly, his teeth bit almost too sharply but Nick lay beneath him and took it without complaint; the mild curiosity in his eyes turned into honest interest and his moans surprised him more than they did Sam. The hunter wondered why Nick had initiated this.

In the morning, Nick was still there.

“You want breakfast?” Sam asked.

“That would be nice.”

“I need a shower first. How about you?”

Nick looked doubtfully towards the bathroom. Sam had to admit that it wasn’t very attractive.

“Together?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Just like that, the other man was back in the game.

* * *

Nick left after breakfast. With some hesitation, he promised that he would see the former hunter again. Sam doubted it but did not argue. That night was busy and Sam didn’t have much time to think of Nick or note more than his absence. When he got back to his motel room – he still hadn’t invested in looking for an apartment – the streetlight was still dark.

He saw Nick again two days later in the same diner they'd eaten at the first time. Nick was sitting in front of a cup of hot chocolate – the same thing he had ordered with Sam – and was submerging the cream with his spoon. He looked as if he had been expecting the former hunter.

Sam ordered coffee and food and joined him.

“You’re back,” he noted needlessly.

“Yes. I had to go and talk to someone. But I'm back now. I'd hoped we could spend some time together."

“Tonight?”

“Not just tonight."

Sam studied the other man. "What do you want from me?”

Nick didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a sip from his cup.

“This is good," he remarked.

Sam laughed somewhat bitterly. “Forget it. I don't want to know. I'd prefer it though if you told me right away if you're planning to stab me in the back."

“I’d never do that, Sam. I promise you that I'll never harm you.”

The Winchester gave him a long look. Finally he sighed. “Good enough.” He let it go that the other man had called him ‘Sam’ again.

Nick nodded. “Good,” he agreed. He drank his chocolate. The waitress brought Sam's coffee.

 

There was not much they could do in the town Sam had chosen to hide out in. But, as Sam soon found out, Nick was a man of nature. He loved the forest and he loved animals. He didn't seek the company of other people besides Sam, the Winchester noted, and he interacted with them only if he had to: he told the waitresses what he wanted to eat and drink, but he rarely gave them more than a glance. Sam couldn't help comparing Nick to Dean and came to the conclusion that they were nothing alike.

Where his brother was disillusioned and still wanted to help people, Nick seemed innocent on one occasion and omniscient on another and he never showed any sympathy for mankind. The first time Sam realized this, they sat in the diner eating lunch and sharing the local newspaper.

Nick made a sound of disgust and when Sam lowered the paper, he saw that the other man had been reading an article about a tourist who had been attacked by a bear while on a camping trip nearby. The former hunter still took a closer look at hunting incidents but this case turned out to be an actual bear. The man had survived and was now in hospital.

“Poor guy,” the waitress commented as she brought him his coffee.

“Did you know him?” Sam asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘know’ but he came through here regularly, yes; pretty much every year in fact. I heard that they almost had to amputate his leg. Terrible.”

“Yes,” Sam agreed.

“Why is it terrible?” Nick inquired. “It was his own fault.”

The waitress started at the comment but just at that moment another customer got her attention and she left.

Sam turned to Nick. “How was it his fault?”

“He intruded on the bear’s territory. Why should the bear not defend it?”

The Winchester shrugged. “You’re right but he probably didn’t know that. He wanted to relax in the woods, nothing more.”

“He shouldn’t have then.”

“So humans shouldn’t take camping trips in the woods?”

Nick sneered. “Humans shouldn’t pollute the planet with their presence.” 

Sam noted the way he said humans. It could mean that Nick was not human himself or that the former hunter was simply being paranoid and Nick was an eco-extremist. But so far, the other man hadn’t tried to kill him yet. Sam leant onto the table.

“Do you believe in God?” He asked.

Nick couldn’t quite hide a flinch.

“Why are we here?” Sam demanded. “Humans, I mean. Why are we here?”

“I don’t know,” Nick admitted and he sounded angry about it.

Nick didn’t stay that night but the next time he came over, they had sex. It was rough and Sam felt it all of the next day and longer.

“Humans can do good, you know,” Sam commented in the morning.

“They kill each other in war, they destroy nature, they destroy every creation in this world. Where is the good in that?” Nick asked derisively.

Sam swallowed. It was true. He had killed people, he had destroyed the whole world.

“Some try,” he forced out through his tight throat.

The other man didn’t answer.

After that, it was always Sam who broached the topic. But, he realized, even after having studied at Stanford he was not always up to the task of arguing with Nick. The older man had set views and his arguments were, while highly contentious, logically sound from a non-human perspective. Sam found that it was harder to argue with him than with a philosophy professor. Still, Sam did his best.

 

They fell into a routine. Nick came to the bar at around six or seven, nursed a beer until eleven and then left. At closing time, he waited for Sam to end his shift and they went to the former hunter’s motel room where they spent the night. And every morning they ate breakfast together.

Lindsey knew by now that Nick ordered the same thing every night. It was Nick’s third week when she asked him:

“Why don’t you try something new?”

Nick looked at her blankly. “Like what?”

She shrugged. “Well, we have bottled beer or perhaps you’d like tequila or whiskey-” she searched the shelves behind the bar, “-or how about rum?”

“I don’t know any of those,” Nick admitted.

“Wanna give them a try?”

The older man agreed.

“Are you trying to get him drunk?” Sam asked her with amusement.

“Of course not,” she denied, though there was a mischievous look in her eyes. “I’m just introducing him to new drinks.”

She poured the first drink herself and put it in front of Nick. He picked the glass up.

“You drink it down fast, don’t you?” He asked. He seemed uncommonly hesitant.

“If you like. You don’t have to,” Lindsey replied. She put her elbows on the top of the bar and watched him expectantly.

Nick considered his drink. First he took a sip. Then, after his first taste, he knocked back the rest.

“It’s… different,” he decided.

“It’s the strong stuff,” Lindsey remarked.

“It’s good. What else can you show me?”

Lindsey smirked.

“You really shouldn’t mix drinks,” Sam spoke up.

“Why not?” Nick asked.

“You get drunk faster,” the Winchester explained.

“Why don’t we just see what you can handle?” Lindsey suggested. Sam didn’t agree with her happy-go-luck attitude, but Nick was old enough to make his own decisions so he didn’t interfere.

Over the rest of the night, Nick drank various drinks, both pure and mixed. He stayed past his usual time until at last it was time to close the bar. It seemed that he had a great tolerance for alcohol: he didn’t even sway.

“Come on, it’s time to go,” Sam said to his lover, touching his shoulder.

“Can we take this with us?” Nick asked eagerly, pointing to a bottle of rum. It had turned out to be his favorite.

Sam looked questioningly at his boss. The man nodded.

“I’ll give you a special price and it’s yours,” he offered.

Nick licked his lips.

Back at the hotel, Nick set the bottle on the nightstand. Sam didn’t think anything of it and went into the bathroom to go about his nightly routine. He brushed his teeth, threw two handfuls of water onto his face and dried himself.

In the main room, Nick was sitting on the bed. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket; Sam had already realized a while ago that Nick never took off clothes, even if everyone else in the room felt hot. It was always Sam who undressed him. The bottle of rum was in his hand and he was studying the label.

Sam approached him.

“If you want to drink that I can get glasses,” he offered.

“You don’t like rum,” Nick replied knowingly, although the Winchester had never actually told him that.

The hunter shrugged. It was true that he preferred beer.

“I saw something on TV once. Perhaps you will like that.”

“What was it?”

“Lie down.” Nick directed him onto the bed. He looked around the room in search for something. When he couldn’t find it, he stood up, saying: “Wait here.” He was at the door when he seemed to remember something and turned back. “Take your clothes off.” There was an unusual glint in his eyes as he added: “I want you naked when I come back.”

His voice sent shivers of heat and arousal down Sam’s back. He had never sounded like that before. Sam complied and took off his shirt. When Nick returned, he was carrying a bucket.

“What are you planning?” Sam frowned.

Nick put the bucket down next to the bed, enabling the hunter to see that it contained chips of ice. He wondered how Nick had been able to get ice so quickly when the ice machine outside the hotel had been broken for weeks now.

Wordlessly, Nick took a glass from one of the cabinets, filled it with rum and a bit of ice. First, he took a sip, then he approached Sam with the bottle. The hunter, guessing what was coming, tensed in preparation. His breath left him when Nick placed an ice cube from the glass onto his chest. Nick leant down and pushed the ice cube further up Sam’s chest with his tongue. The sensation of cold and wet, ice and the older man’s tongue made the Winchester moan. Slowly, Nick tilted the bottle, allowing a small trickle of rum to trail down around Sam’s pectorals. Again, he chased it with his tongue but he didn’t reach everything and sucked on the younger man’s skin instead.

The next time he tilted the bottle, the sticky liquor ran down Sam’s belly and into his navel. Of course Nick chose that spot to lick and suck the rum off. Sam’s dick throbbed as if all of his blood supply was centered there. Nick threw one of his legs over Sam, straddling him. His eyes were entirely focused on Sam’s expression and his reactions to the treatment. The younger man’s chest heaved, his eyes were half-lidded. Foregoing the rum this time, Nick latched onto one of Sam’s nipples. The hunter would have bowed off the bed if the older man’s weight hadn’t been above him. He whined.

More as a reaction than actual intent he moved his right hand down to his penis. It was thick and leaking. Nick’s fingers joined his in spreading the pre-come over the head. Then Sam reached further down to his tight balls, rolling and palming them in his hand.

“One day I’ll make you touch yourself just for my pleasure,” Nick breathed.

Sam chuckled throatily. “You’d be too impatient not to touch me yourself.”

“I can be very patient when I need to be.”

Sam choked on a yell when Nick wrapped his hand around his penis, an ice cube hidden in his palm.

“Cold,” he moaned, yet couldn’t decide whether to try and pull away from the cold or thrust into the other man’s fist. In the end he did both, frantically pushing into the fingers wrapped around him and pulling out again. The cube quickly melted down into nothing but water and when it was just that, still slightly too cold water, Nick opened his fist and quickly drew his hand between Sam’s legs to give his balls and sack a temperature shock before inserting a finger through his entrance.

Sam nearly howled. He panted when Nick slowly withdrew his digit some, then pushed it back in as far as it would go. Sam could see him reach for a new ice cube with his other hand.

“Please,” he moaned and to his own surprise he wasn’t asking Nick _not_ to use the ice but rather to do so.

Nick didn’t need an explanation. He trailed the ice from Sam’s navel down to his groin over his pubic hair to the root of his straining manhood. The Winchester shuddered as the older man slid the cube to the tip of his penis, making sure to rub thoroughly over the crown. Sam fought not to pull away. Before his erection could wilt further, Nick placed the ice cube in Sam’s belly button and stroked his penis.

“Get the lube,” Nick ordered. “And make sure the ice doesn’t fall off.”

Sam groaned. He wasn’t close enough to the bedside drawer to open it and get the lube so he’d have to move. Carefully he crawled backwards on the bed, his stomach muscles tense to keep the surface even. Nick followed him enough to keep his finger inside the hunter. Once Sam was close enough, he carefully opened it and took out the lube. Feeling triumphant, he chucked it to the other man.

“Good,” Nick praised. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” the hunter breathed.

“More of the ice? Or more of my fingers?”

“Your fingers.”

The other man pulled his digits out. Sam moaned in disappointment, spreading his legs a bit more. He was already open a bit but it wasn’t nearly enough. He watched as Nick lubed his fingers carefully, clearly taking his time to make Sam wait. Finally he came back with two fingers. The stretch of Sam’s entrance was nearly painful to make way for them. His lover curled his digits, easily finding his prostate and stroking over it.

Sam pushed down onto them reflexively with a gasp. This time, Nick didn’t wait long to add a third finger. Perhaps his patience was at an end after all. He thrust them in and out, feeling along Sam’s walls. The Winchester merely gave himself over to the pleasure. His skin felt hot, the ice had melted into small, cold puddles and he was moaning steadily by now. He wanted more than Nick’s fingers inside him.

As if hearing his desire, Nick pulled his digits out and slid off the bed. Sam felt wanton as he watched Nick undress with half-lidded eyes. The older man didn’t rush about it; he pulled his shirts over his head, then measuredly opened his belt and pushed his jeans together with his boxers past his hips to the floor. Then he took off his socks, watching Sam and the way he lazily thrust into the hand he was stroking himself with. At last, Nick got back on the mattress. His eyes met Sam’s as he squeezed out some lube and put it on his erection.

His hands were gentle but firm as they parted Sam’s thighs further so he could settle between them. Sam drew in a long breath as Nick entered him. He was long and hard but when he had finally settled inside him, it was so good and Sam sighed and moaned his pleasure.

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Do it. Fuck me!”

Nick complied.

* * *

The next day was one of those days which made you wish you’d stayed in bed that morning. Everything was fine until Sam’s shift at the bar started. Then Billy had a bad day and they had to call his mum, who, with some cajoling, managed to convince him to come home with her. Sam could only pity the guy for whatever it was that had made him turn out like this.

It was an unusually busy day, even for a Friday. He had hardly any time for speaking even briefly with Nick, so the older man left early, clearly uncomfortable and irritated with the crowd of people.

Sam’s mood sunk further when a group of college guys from Enid came in. They were already drunk and Lindsey brought them their beers against her better judgment. Before long, they had moved on to shots and started a game of darts. It was inevitably, really. They started a fight and Sam had to get into the thick of it to break it up. Even he couldn’t have dodged the elbow that flew at him, probably intended for someone else but Sam wouldn’t count on it. The downside of the whole situation was that Sam couldn’t even retaliate as he wanted to. They were young, drunk, human and he wanted to keep his job.

In the end, the county sheriff and his deputy took them in for the night. Sam got the rest of the night free. His shoulder ached and his cheekbone hurt. He could tell without looking into a mirror that it would bruise. Nick was already waiting for him in front of his motel room. An expression of anger crossed his face when he saw Sam.

“What happened? Who did this?” He demanded.

Sam waved him off. “A group of stupid kids. Let it go, they were drunk.”

Nick looked extremely unhappy. Sam opened the door to the motel room. There was a fridge and, like the good little hunter he tried to pretend he wasn’t anymore, he kept an ice pack there.

“Does that help?” Nick asked curiously as if he didn’t believe so. But Sam nodded.

“It does.”

He sat down on the side of the bed. Nick joined him; their knees were almost close enough to touch.

“I’m sorry I’m not good company today,” Sam apologized.

“It’s not your fault,” Nick replied. He sounded displeased none the less. “Let me see.”

Sam lifted the icepack from his cheek and Nick stroked over the skin. His hand was cool and the Winchester found that he didn’t miss the ice.

“Your shoulder, too?” Nick enquired.

Sam nodded. “It’s not too bad though. I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you have.” He continued stroking his cheek.

The younger man chuckled. “You gonna kiss it as well?”

“If you like.” Nick didn’t actually wait for a reply. He simply leant in and pressed his dry, chapped, cool lips to Sam’s cheekbone.

 

The next morning Sam woke and went to bathroom to relieve himself. Once done, he took a look into the mirror to inspect his face. But the spot where the student had hit him with his elbow had not bruised after all and it didn’t hurt either. His shoulder was fine, too, when he rolled it experimentally. He reentered the bedroom where Nick was still lying in bed and looking up at him like an utterly satisfied cat.

“Everything’s fine,” the Winchester said, though Nick hadn’t asked.

The other man just smiled and beckoned him to come back under the covers.

* * *

Nick was not always in town. He left once again for reasons he did not explain to Sam – and Sam did not ask either. Then, the omens came.

Lindsey had backed off for a while after Nick’s appearance, but she hadn’t given up on getting answers at least. Sam had been careless and she had good eyes which led to a game of darts he didn’t even bother throwing. He quickly abandoned all pretense of interest in the game when he caught what the reporter was saying:

_“Spring hail, lightning strikes, and now fire in the town of Tully tonight, John. Locals say that what started as a torrential hailstorm late this afternoon suddenly turned to massive lightning strikes that triggered the fires now consuming more than twenty acres here along the Route 17 corridor. County officials are advising all Tully residents to prepare for what could become mandatory evacuations.”_

Jeff switched the TV off.

“Damn,” he swore. “Is it me or does it seem like it's the end of the world?”

 

As usual, Nick was waiting for Sam outside his motel room. Sam had offered to get him a key, so he didn’t have to wait in the cold but the older man had assured him that he wouldn’t freeze.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nick began as Sam unlocked the door.

“About what?”

They went inside. The older man waited until Sam gave him his full attention.

“I want more,” he said.

Sam blinked. “What do you mean?”

Nick searched for words. “I mean…something more…permanent.”

The Winchester sighed. “Nick, I’m sorry; but the people who’ve tried to be close to me, well, they’re either dead or gone.”

“That won’t happen to me,” The other man said with absolute conviction, as if he was certain that he wouldn’t die.

Sam lowered himself to sit on the bed, facing away from Nick. The other man sat down behind him and put his hand on the Winchester’s shoulder.

“Have you seen the news tonight?” Sam asked. “It looks almost… like the apocalypse.”

“It does,” Nick agreed.

“It’s my fault,” Sam burst out.

“No it isn’t, Sam.” It was the first time Nick had used Sam’s real name again since they first met. “It was destiny. You couldn’t avoid it.”

Sam turned to him. “Do you really believe that? That destiny cannot be changed?”

“I know it is so. That is the way God made this world.”

The younger man shook his head. “I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Because if that’s true, I’m doomed and so is the whole world.”

Nick cupped his chin. “They don’t matter. The only one that matters to me is you.”

Sam pushed him back onto the bed. His kiss was desperate, and tears brimmed in his eyes as he begged:

“Make it stop.”

“Why?” Nick asked.

The Winchester violently withdrew. “Why do you still ask why? Do you not care about Lindsey, Jeff, Billy, all the others? You say you care about me! How can you care for me yet despise everyone else?”

“There is nothing worth saving.”

Sam grabbed the other man violently by the shoulders and shook him. “Yes there is! You just refuse to open your eyes! What can I do to make you see?!” He turned away, releasing Nick. Sam bit his lip so hard to suppress the tears that he tasted blood.

Nick wrapped his arms around him and laid his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“Shh,” he made. “Shh.”

“Just for tonight. Just for tonight make it stop,” Sam begged.

The other man leaned in to place a tender kiss on Sam’s jaw. “Just for tonight,” he agreed.

They sank onto the bed. But unlike all the other times Sam had responded to his lover’s caresses, he lay passive beneath Nick. The older man pulled back. Sam’s head was turned to the side and he seemed to be staring at the wall.

“I’m giving you a choice,” Sam said.

Nick shifted to lie next to the Winchester, in the younger man’s sight, and propped himself up onto his elbow. “What kind of choice?”

“I want you to decide what you really want. Me – or something else.”

* * *

“I have to go away for a few days,” Nick said.

Sam nodded. He didn’t wholly expect the older man to return. It depended on his choice.

“But before I go, I have something for you which I want you to keep.”

“What is it?” Sam asked wearily.

Nick opened his hand. A black feather with silver or perhaps gold tips hung on a leather cord like a pendant. He looked as reluctant about giving it to Sam as the Winchester was about accepting it. Still, he had never heard of a cursed feather and it was beautiful. It looked smooth and solid, cut like glass but when he stretched out his fingers and touched it gently, it was soft. An almost imperceptible shudder ran through Nick’s body. As the older man didn’t seem likely to put it on him, caught in the moment perhaps, Sam accepted the necklace and slipped it over his own head.

The older man left and that same day, the hunters arrived.

“Sam!”

The Winchester ignored him. Lindsey, however, turned around in curiosity.

“Sam!”

Lindsey pushed herself away from the bar.

“Sam? What happened to Keith?” She asked with a smile.

“Wait, what?”

In the meantime, Reggie and Steve had joined Tim and together with Lindsey, they formed a front Sam could no longer ignore. Lindsey gestured at Tim.

“He called you Sam,” she said.

“Yeah, uh, Sam's my middle name,” the former hunter tried to save the situation.

She laughed.

“Keith Sam? Man, I'm sorry.”

“Well, actually, it's Samuel, so it's not quite as dumb as it sounds,” Tim spoke up.

Sam studied the three hunters. They clearly wanted something.

“Are you guys friends?” Lindsey asked, eager to learn more about ‘Keith Samuel’.

“Hunting buddies,” Steve explained. “With his dad. Samuel here is quite the hunter himself.”

“Wow. You killed deer and things?”

“Yeah, and things.” Tim again. It was clearly high time to break this up.

“Why don't I get you guys some drinks?” Sam questioned, though it was apparent that it wasn’t much of a question.

They sat down at a table. Sam put down their beer in front of them and joined as well.

“Sorry. Didn't mean to bust you back there,” Tim apologized.

“No, it’s, ah, it’s alright.” Sam took a look around himself to ensure no one would be listening to their conversation, Lindsey included. “So, what’s up?”

It turned out that the hunters were after a number of demons and wanted his help. Sam, however, refused firmly. He didn’t feel as if he should be hunting, least of all in an apocalypse which was his own fault. He was glad when they left.

“So your parents were drunk when they named you and you shoot Bambi?” Lindsey came up to him.

“Look, it’s… it's a long story.”

“That is it. Enough with the kung fu wandering the earth thing. I'm gonna buy you dinner and we're gonna talk.”

Sam wished he could say that he had a date with Nick. But Nick was gone. He sighed.

“Lindsey, I can't.”

“No. The only way to avoid bloodshed is to say yes.”

Sam wondered what he had gotten himself into.

In the end, his dinner with Lindsey didn’t go too badly. Admittedly, she had a vivid imagination and assumed that he had been part of the mafia, but she wasn’t a bad person. If things had been easier, Sam might have liked her enough to be with her. But he wasn’t that kind of person anymore. Nick had been different; Sam had never felt as if he need to be careful with him, never felt as if he needed to protect the older man. Despite Nick’s at times astonishing naivety and at other times difficult narrow-mindedness, he had suited Sam and in a way this frightened him for reasons the former hunter could not name.

The night after his dinner with Lindsey he worked late. Jeff was already gone and he and Lindsey were to close up the bar. Sam was wiping off the tables while Lindsey had gone to take the trash out.

When Sam heard the door open and shut, he immediately knew that the heavy footsteps weren’t Lindsey’s.

“Bar's closed!” He called.

When he received no answer, he turned around. It was Tim.

“Something you want to tell me, Sam?” The hunter was walking slowly, his face was turned down towards the floor but the Winchester could tell nonetheless that it was battered. Sam had no idea what the other man could mean. The Winchester straightened up from where he was bent over a table.

“What? No.”

Tim looked up. “You sure about that?” Even in this bad light, his bruises were spectacular.

“I…I don't know…jeez. Are you okay? Where are Reggie and Steve?”

“Oh, Steve's good, he's, uh, his guts are lying roadside outside the Holly five-and-dime.”

Sam was shocked. Shaking his head, he said: “I’m sorry.”

Tim looked at him with a dead-serious expression. “Sorry don’t cut it, Sam.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“The truth!”

Sam frowned.

“Okay, fine. Let me give you some of my own, then. We go into town, we catch ourselves a demon, we get jumped by ten more. Steve bought it.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam repeated earnestly.

Tim shook his head. “Saying it twice don’t make it so, Sam.”

A horrible thought rose it’s ugly head in the former hunter.

“You see, this demon, he, uh, he told us things. Crazy things, things about you, Sam,“ Tim went on.

“Demons lie,” Sam immediately replied.

“Yeah.” The other hunter nodded. “I'm gonna ask you one last time. The truth. Now!”

The door opened again. Reggie entered, dragging a struggling Lindsey with him.

“Lindsey!”

Reggie lifted his hand and held a long, black knife at her throat. The Winchester couldn’t even have gotten to her as Tim was standing between them.

“What’s going on?” Lindsey asked frightened.

Sam swallowed. “Just take it easy, okay? Put the knife down.”

Tim turned to Reggie and gave him a silent signal. It still took entirely too long for Reggie to place the blade on the bar. Lindsey didn’t look relieved.

“It’s true,” Sam admitted. “What the demon said, it’s all true.”

“Keep going.”

“Why?” Sam shook his head bitterly. “You gonna hate me any less? Am I gonna hate myself any less? What do you want?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Sam hesitated. He hated doing this in front of a civilian, and the incomprehension on Lindsey’s face spoke for itself. Finally, he said with forced calmness:

“I did it. I started the apocalypse.” It was worse saying it now than when he had told Nick.

Tim reached into his pocket and retrieved a tube. He held it up, showing Sam plainly the red liquid inside.

“What is that?” The former hunter asked redundantly, though he already had an idea.

“What do you think it is? It's go juice, Sammy boy.”

“Get that away from me.”

“Away from you? No.” The hunter shook his head and approached him. “This is for you. Hell if that demon wasn't right as rain. Down the hatch, son.”

“You're insane!”

“Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna drink this, hulk out-“

Behind Tim, Reggie was putting cuffs on Lindsey and chaining her to the bar.

“-and you're gonna waste every one of the demon scum that killed my best friend.” The hunter turned to the girl. “Or she dies.”

“You wouldn't do that.”

“It's funny how watching your best friend die changes that.”

Now Tim and Reggie steadily moved in on Sam. The Winchester backed away. Reggie hadn’t spoken a single word but he looked eager to take a chunk out of the former hunter.

“Come on, you know you want it, Sam,” Tim cajoled. “Just reach out and take it.”

Sam dug his heels in. He wouldn’t let these men force him to do this again. This, which had ruined things between him and Dean, this which had ruined his life and – in part, at least – had caused him to become willfully blind and start the apocalypse.

Suddenly, Reggie threw himself at the Winchester. Sam managed to catch him, turn him onto the pool table and punch the man across the jaw. Then Tim was on his back and pulling him away from his friend and onto the floor. Sam jabbed his elbow backwards into Tim’s face.

Then, suddenly, they were gone, thrown onto the floor into chairs and tables and the pool table.

“Nick!” Lindsey cheered.

Sam had hardly the time to process this, then the man was already standing next to him. He looked furious and each of his muscles was tense; Sam realized only in the back of his mind that Nick hadn’t actually laid a hand on the hunters. But the thought took a backseat when Nick bodily hauled Tim off the floor and pushed him violently onto the bar. Reggie wasn’t moving.

Nick’s expression was murderous and Lindsey cried out in fear, clearly expecting the man to throttle Tim to death right in front of her eyes.

“How dare you!” Nick hissed.

Sam struggled off the floor and put a restraining hand on the older man’s shoulder. Even he wasn’t prepared for the look in Nick’s eyes when they met his gaze. But the Winchester didn’t back off. It was tempting, oh so tempting, and a cold-blooded rational side in him said that it would be better to take Tim and Reggie out. He had no illusions that they would forever pose a danger to him and also let every other hunter in the country know that he had started the apocalypse.

“I’m sorry, you can’t,” Sam said.

“I can!” Nick insisted.

“That’s not the way. Let them go. They’ll leave town.”

The older man gave Tim another shove onto the bar. The defenseless hunter nodded between gritted teeth.

“We’ll go.” He threw a black look at Sam but the Winchester didn’t care anymore. He could feel the beats of his heart up to his throat.

For a moment it seemed as if Nick’s hands tightened, about to take the life between his hands and crush it into tiny pieces to be blown into the wind until nothing was left. Then he pushed Tim away. The hunter sailed across almost the whole distance to the door. Nick strode over to Reggie, grabbed him by the throat and gave him the same treatment.

“If I ever see you near Sam again, you won’t survive it.” Nick warned.

The hunters mutely picked themselves up from the floor and left, the door banging shut behind them.

Sam threw Nick a look difficult to describe, a mix of desperation to go to his lover, alarm and gratefulness. But years of hunting to save people had taught him other priorities. He went over to Lindsey and opened the handcuffs with the one lock pick he still carried on him.

“Go,” he told her. “We can talk some other time.”

She looked startled from Sam to Nick and back to Sam. She nodded frantically, looking to be close to tears. The door fell shut behind her.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, rubbing his hands over his face.

Nick hadn’t moved from his spot, clearly waiting for Sam to make his move. Sam looked around the bar. Several chairs and tables had fallen over, one chair even appeared to be broken.

“I need to clean up,” he noted. “I can’t leave everything like this.”

Wordlessly, Nick picked up a chair and straightened it. After a moment of hesitation, Sam did the same. Finally he put away the cleaning things into the back room. When he came out, Nick was waiting for him, leaning against the bar and studying the black knife Reggie hadn’t managed to take with him. The older man held it out to Sam, hilt first.

“Let’s go back to the motel?” Sam asked. He didn’t know how well he managed to disguise his nervousness.

“Yes, let’s.” Nick replied. In a lower voice he added, “I want you.” This look Sam was familiar with. It was single-minded desire.

 

Sam didn’t know whether he or Nick shut the door to his room. It didn’t matter either. Nick’s arms were strong around Sam, holding him steady as they kissed. Their tongues wrestled and Sam wasn’t even aware of the room until he toppled backwards onto the bed and Nick fell on top of him.

The older man’s cool hands on Sam’s heated body made the hair on his arms rise and left a feeling similar to electric shocks on his skin. Sam reached up and clenched his hand into the nape of Nick’s neck and his hair there. The Winchester shivered as Nick slipped his hands beneath his layers, drawing up his shirts along the way, stroked over his ribs and then further up to his hard nipples.

Nick released his lips and kissed him beneath his jaw, then licked down to his pulse point which he nipped with his teeth. Sam groaned, bending his neck back to give his lover more access. He held onto Nick’s shoulders, his body rising off the bed towards the older man. He found the lapels of Nick’s jacket and drew it down the man’s arms. Nick had to pull back to take it off and Sam used the opportunity to lift his shirt as well, throwing his own shirts onto the floor right after Nick’s clothing.

Sam sat almost in Nick’s lap, with his legs drawn over the older man’s but he was not close enough. His back strained when Sam leant in for another kiss but Nick rolled him onto his back while his palms slid up the inside of his thighs. He gripped Sam’s right flank, lifting his leg some until Sam wound it around his lover’s waist. Nick opened Sam’s belt and drew down the zipper torturously slowly. Getting the jeans and boxers off was a slightly more difficult affair but they managed.

Nick clasped his right buttock and squeezed it.

“I want you,” he repeated his earlier words.

“You can have me,” Sam replied, readily spreading his legs further. Nick flicked his tongue over the Sam’s nipples, nipping them with his teeth next. His saliva glistened brightly on Sam’s chest.

“Please…”

Nick soothed him. “Don’t. I’ll take care of you.”

The older man slid his fingers down into Sam’s crack until he finally stroked over his entrance.

“Lube,” Sam reminded him, though it would not have been necessary.

With his other hand, Nick opened the drawer and found the lube without fumbling. He gave it to Sam to open it and slicked his fingers. Sam combed through Nick’s hair and brought their lips together for another kiss. He moaned when the other man inserted a finger into his entrance just as he pushed his tongue inside his mouth. Nick swallowed Sam’s moans and soft cries.

Sam was aroused and eager, knew when to relax; by the time Nick lined up his erection, he was more than ready for it. Nick entered him slowly, enjoying the sensation of Sam opening up around him as much as Sam’s reactions to it. But once he was fully inside the younger man, he gave him hardly any time to adjust. He pulled back and thrust, and when he felt he couldn’t get enough leverage, he forced Sam’s knees his chest and pushed into him all the harder, broken cries tumbling from the former hunter’s lips. 

“Say my name,” Nick demanded.

“Nick,” Sam panted.

“No,” the older man hissed. “My true name! Say it!”

Sam’s eyes widened. 

“Say it!” He ordered again more forcefully. “I know you know it. You freed me!”

Sam drew in breath, let it out shakily, then drew it in again.

“Do it!” Nick breathed. “Please.”

Finally, at what he felt was the top of his lungs, Sam screamed:

_“Lucifer!”_

“Yes!” The archangel crowed. He grasped Sam’s face between his hands, ignoring the pinched eyes and even the stray tear on the Winchester’s cheek, and pressed their lips together. “You’re mine, Sam, all mine now.”

It was difficult to tell whether Sam’s next sound was a sob or a choked groan due to Lucifer’s cock piercing him to the core. But in the next moment, Sam leant up and dug his nails into Lucifer’s shoulder blades. The lights flickered and the angel cried out. It was his wings, folded snugly in his vessel, which reacted so violently to the touch, more violently than Sam had ever witnessed before when he had touched Nick’s back. Perhaps it was because Lucifer had revealed himself and thus let go of his tight control. Sam could see that the angel was about to come.

Lucifer jerked Sam off and furiously thrust into the former hunter a few more times, before he came with a loud groan and Sam’s name on his lips.

 

“Now what?” Sam asked as he lay afterwards on his side. Lucifer was behind him, stroking his back.

“I want to give you a gift.” Lucifer dropped a kiss between his shoulder blades. “I want to give you everything.”

Sam swallowed. “You know what I want.”

“Tell me again.”

“I want the apocalypse to end. I don’t want people to die on my account; I want this madness stopped.” The hunter hesitated. “And…”

“And?” Lucifer prompted him when he didn’t continue.

“And I want someone to love me.”

“I already love you and if you give me time, I will prove it to you. Is that enough?”

Sam turned around so he could look at the fallen angel. It was hard to read an angel but Sam thought he knew enough by now how to tell what Lucifer felt.

“Yes, if you mean it,” he replied. “What about the apocalypse?”

Lucifer tugged a strand of Sam’s hair behind his ear.

“I mean it. But we have a long way ahead of us,” he said.

“I know.”

“No, I’m afraid you don’t. I need to find my Father.”

Sam sat up. “You mean God?”

“Yes, I mean God. Only He can help us now.”

“Why? How?”

Lucifer gestured at his body. “Nick here was just an improvisation. Plan B. He can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think you were in that chapel? You're the one, Sam. You're my vessel. My true vessel. Nick will deteriorate, he will bleed, until this body eventually fails.”

“What… what about Nick himself?”

Lucifer shook his head. “He’s long gone. I burnt him out. His wife and child were killed, he was suicidal. That’s why he let me in.”

“You’d do the same to me? Burn me out?”

“I'm so sorry, Sam, I really am, but that’s what usually happens. But you’ve managed what no one would have thought possible – you’ve made me fall in love with you.” Lucifer smiled a little. “You should be proud.” He sighed. “Point is, this vessel won’t hold me for long, less than a year, if at all, and I won’t use your body. My Father is the only one who could give me a permanent vessel. Also we may need Him for more: the horsemen haven’t been released yet and won’t be but there are factions in Heaven and Hell which both want the apocalypse to take place at all cost. While Hell is not capable of much without my orders, it is unlikely that I will be able to convince Michael of my intentions so we need to find my Father, who, evidently, is _not_ in Heaven.”

Sam took a careful breath. Lucifer was right, he hadn’t expected that. “All right,” he said. “When and where do we start?”


End file.
